


Punk!Percy

by justagirlinabookworld



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-07
Updated: 2016-04-07
Packaged: 2018-05-31 18:13:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6481519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justagirlinabookworld/pseuds/justagirlinabookworld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nerdy!Annabeth and Punk!Percy with the line:<br/>"You fainted... straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention, you didn't have to go to such extremes."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Punk!Percy

Annabeth Chase walks confidently, quietly, and quickly down the empty hall, ready, as always, for the day before her. She shifts her textbooks from her right hand to her left, smoothing her newly freed hand down her perfectly curled hair. She sits in front of the lockers by her first period class, thirty minutes early, and pulls out her homework for tonight, intently focused on her advanced class work.

Her focus is the same reason that she doesn’t realize the presence of the black combat boots in front of her. That is, doesn’t realize it until the boots have tapped her textbook, and a deep voice clears his throat.

“Yes?” Annabeth asks, annoyed. She shifts her book away from the offending boot, but doesn’t look up yet.

“You’re in my way.” The voice is gruff, deep, but has an undeniable edge to it that sends a shiver down Annabeth’s spine. For the first time, Annabeth looks up at the perpetrator, her eyes meeting a startling green she hadn’t seen many times before.

“Percy Jackson,” she says carefully. Her voice is small, but sure. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

He narrows his eyes at her, scanning her from her sweet princess curls to her neat, light pink button down blouse, to her perfectly pleated charcoal grey skirt. “You’re in,” he says, “my way.”

Percy gestures to his locker, right above her head. Annabeth scrunches her eyebrows at him, but moves to gather her books anyway. Apparently, though, she takes too much time. Percy rolls his eyes, stepping closer to her, and Annabeth’s heart skips a beat, more from surprise than anything else, according to her.

Suddenly, Percy’s bare knee, courtesy of his ripped black jeans, is by her shoulder, brushing against her arm. Annabeth makes a surprised squeak, resulting in a chuckle that does not make Annabeth squirm, and she looks up at him as he impatiently opens his locker door. Only to be faced with Percy’s crotch being way too close to her face, Annabeth sputters before fixing a glare in her eyes.

She scrambles quickly to her feet, banging her head on his now open locker with a loud thud, and stands to Percy’s right, behind his locker door. Percy very casually, very slowly grabs one book from his locker, then closes the door and turns to face a very angry Annabeth.

For the first time that morning, and obviously her entire life, Annabeth really looks at Percy. His black combat boots (that had assaulted her math text) covered the ends of his ripped, black, skinny jeans (that had assaulted her eyes), which led upwards to black American Psycho t-shirt and a leather jacket. All helping to create one Percy Jackson; who currently stands in front of her, a smirk on his face, a cocky look in his eyes.

“Enjoying the view?”

Annabeth’s blood surges, angry at this boy for being so, just… rude. She opens her mouth to say something to him (hopefully to tell him off, probably to say something unintelligible), but her head goes dizzy. Standing up quickly and hitting her head on his locker must’ve been a little much for her.

“I-” she starts, trying to focus her mind and her words and her glare. “I… You… And…”

But then the blood pounding through her ears is too much, and her vision goes black.  
~ ~ ~  
Annabeth wakes only a minute later. The hallway is still mostly empty, and no one’s around her. That is… No one and nothing except for the arms she finds wrapped around her waist.

She moves to stand up again, to get away from the suspicious arms holding her suspiciously close, but they firmly pull her back down again.

“Easy,” Percy says, guiding her back down. She settles once again in his lap, left with little choice to do otherwise.

“What just happened? What did you do to me?” Her voice is cautious, and she meets Percy’s sea green eyes with a look of apprehension.

“You fainted… straight into my arms,” he says. “You know, if you wanted my attention, you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”

Percy still, oddly enough, won’t let her stand back up, but lets her at least sit up enough so her back is half against the lockers, and half against his chest. 

“Yeah, right, Percy.” She doesn’t give him a lot to go on, conversation wise, so they stay quiet for a few seconds, Percy wondering what to do now, Annabeth trying to make herself less awkward.

“Is that even your real name? Percy? Is it short for something?”

He stays silent, so Annabeth thinks.

“Percival?” She tries.

He laughs. She smirks.

“Priscilla?”

He scrunches up his eyebrows and shakes his head vigorously.

“Perseus?”

He attempts a chuckle, but looks away. His arms tighten reflexively around Annabeth, and she knows.

“Ooh, so that’s it. Look at that, Perseus Jackson, afraid for me to use his real name.”

Percy rolls his eyes and stands up, dropping Annabeth unceremoniously on the floor.

“Let me know next time you need someone to catch you,” he says. “I’ll know where not to be.” He smirks at her, punctuating his declaration with “bye,” and then he walks down the hall. Just like that.

Annabeth can’t complain, though. She gathers her books and tucks her hair behind her ear, thinking that this just might not be the last she sees of Perseus Jackson.


End file.
